


Brew

by walkalittleline



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, it’s just them making tea, this has no plot I just want soft things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:42:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25701541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkalittleline/pseuds/walkalittleline
Summary: “These are from the… Welles family, if I remember correctly,” Caduceus continues with a thoughtful frown. “Very heady scent but surprisingly light on the palate and a lingering sweetness at the tip of the tongue.” He pauses, smiling a little wryly. “Funny… it gets harder remembering all the families the longer I’m away.”“We’ll go back,” Fjord assures him. He resists the urge to reach out and cover Caduceus’ hand with his own. “I promise.”Caduceus smiles, though there’s a degree of sadness behind it that makes Fjord’s chest ache.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Fjord
Comments: 10
Kudos: 137





	Brew

“And you never want to let the water boil. It ruins the taste.”

Fjord nods, trying to make mental notes on everything Caduceus is saying even as he keeps a close eye on the practiced movements of his hands. His fingers are long and delicate in the way they lift the kettle from the flame, gently steaming but not boiling. He sets it on a cloth and opens a small pouch taken from his pack, taking a deep breath and making a satisfied sound before holding it out to Fjord, who takes a quick sniff. 

The leaves inside are vibrant green, dry and fragrant even now. Fjord watches as Caduceus pours some of the steaming water into the pale pink teapot in front of him before spooning some of the tea in after it. The table between them is dappled with pale, golden light from the baubles scattered around the boughs of the tree overhead.

“White and green teas should be cooler and steeped for less time than black teas,” he says as he stirs the tea a few time before placing the lid back on the teapot. “We’ll just let this brew for a few minutes before we pour. The trick is in the timing. You’ll get a knack for it over time.” He gives Fjord an encouraging smile and Fjord has to catch his breath, looking down at his empty cup to hide his flushed face.

“These are from the… Welles family, if I remember correctly,” Caduceus continues with a thoughtful frown. “Very heady scent but surprisingly light on the palate and a lingering sweetness at the tip of the tongue.” He pauses, smiling a little wryly. “Funny… it gets harder remembering all the families the longer I’m away.” 

“We’ll go back,” Fjord assures him. He resists the urge to reach out and cover Caduceus’ hand with his own. “I promise.”

Caduceus smiles, though there’s a degree of sadness behind it that makes Fjord’s chest ache.

“When you’re ready to pour, you want to strain the leaves out,” Caduceus presses on, holding a wide spoon with small holes around the base, balancing it on the lip of his teacup. He lifts the teapot and begins to carefully pour the freshly brewed tea through the strainer, the errant leaves caught up and swirling around the bottom.

“Slowly,” he says, glancing at Fjord. “You don’t want to splash or overfill.”

Fjord nods again, watching the steam curl up in ribbons from the cup as Caduceus lifts the strainer and taps it lightly against the rim of his cup before placing it in Fjord’s and repeating the same careful pour. He pushes the cup across the table to Fjord and gestures to the array of accompaniments set to the side. 

“I prefer just a bit of honey,” he says as he lifts the ridged dipper from the little honey pot, swirling it deftly before holding it over his cup to allow some of the thick, golden honey to drip into his tea. “But there’s cream—“ he touches his fingertips to the tiny cream pitcher— “or sugar—“ lifts the lid off a tin of coarse, dark grains of sugar— “or you can just drink it plain. I find it also depends on the actual brew.”

He smiles again, more genuine, and stirs his tea with a spoon, tapping it carefully against the rim before setting it down. He lifts the cup to his lips and blows gently, clearing away the steam. Taking a careful sip, he hums appreciatively before giving Fjord an expectant look as he sets his cup back down.

Fjord stares at him blankly for a few seconds before realizing he’s been invited to drink and hurrying to pick up his cup and take a hasty gulp. He regrets swallowing before he’s fully done it. It burns his throat and he struggles not to cough, pressing his lips together tightly as his eyes water and the heat travels rapidly down to his stomach.

“That’s one way to drink it, I guess,” Caduceus says, looking both amused and concerned as Fjord gives up trying to keep a brave face and coughs painfully. “Here.”

He reaches across the table and lays his fingertips lightly on the base of Fjord’s throat. Fjord stills and tries not to blush or fidget, feeling the familiar warmth of healing energy flow up his throat and into his mouth.

“Better?” Caduceus says, withdrawing his hand and giving him a fond smile.

Fjord nods mutely, feeling silly and enamored all at once. He can’t help but be entranced by Caduceus in moments like these. The deep, slow cadence of his voice that calms him so effectively. The unhurried but practiced movement of his long, slender fingers. All combined with the way he occasionally looks up at Fjord with those heavy-lidded lilac eyes like he’s making sure he’s paying attention makes it impossible for him to not feel mesmerized by him.

“Why don’t you try again?” Caduceus says, gesturing to Fjord’s cup. “Maybe slower this time.”

Fjord forces a nervous laugh and does as he’s told, taking a much more careful sip of his tea. It’s strange, the way the smell of it fills his nose and almost overpowers the oddly delicate flavor across his tongue.

“Good?” Caduceus says when he sets his cup down again.

“Mm,” Fjord hums, nodding. “It is sweet. I like it.”

Caduceus beams happily. “I thought you would.” He takes another drink of his own tea, pausing to select one of the delicate biscuits he’d made earlier that morning to dip into it. “Next time you can brew and I’ll supervise.” 

He bites into the thin cookie and Fjord can’t stop from watching the way his tongue catches the crumbs at the corner of his mouth. He finds himself staring at Caduceus’ lips more than strictly normal lately, imagining tracing the plump pink skin with his thumb or pressing his own lips against them until they’re wet and swollen.

“I have some more forgiving ones that can stand over-brewing better than others.”

Fjord blinks and forces his eyes back to meet Caduceus’.

“Sure,” he says, clearing his throat when his voice comes out breathless. “That sounds wonderful.”

“You know,” Caduceus says, smiling faintly. “It’ll be nice having someone else around who can really appreciate a good cup of tea.”

“I’ve always liked your tea,” Fjord says honestly. “I might not know much about it… but I know there’s a certain one you always use when we’re all feeling down. Or when we’re badly injured or when it rains.”

Caduceus looks both touched and startled at the confession, lips parting in surprise before turning up in a small smile.

“I didn’t think anyone noticed,” he says softly.

“I did.”

Caduceus breathes out a small laugh and ducks his head, his expression affected and pleased, and Fjord swears he sees color high on his cheeks.

“Well, thank you,” he says quietly. “For that and for this.” He waves his hand over the spread laid out between them. 

“It’s nice,” Fjord says, “Peaceful.”

Caduceus smiles and runs his thumb over the rim of his teacup. “Cultivating the tea always made me feel connected to Her,” he says. The sadness returns to his eyes. “Especially after everyone left.”

Fjord does reach across the table this time, resting his hand on top of Caduceus’ and smiling when he looks up at him.

“Thank you for letting me be part of that,” he says. He squeezes Caduceus’ fingers. 

“Thank you for wanting to be part of it,” Caduceus replies. He turns his hand over in Fjord’s, not gripping it but allowing Fjord’s fingers to fall between his own. He glances around at the calm garden around them, the branches of the tree creaking gently overhead. “Maybe we can grow our own tea here.”

“We’ll have to skip the graves, though,” Fjord says thoughtfully, not bothering to fight the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Mm, that sounds boring.” Caduceus gives him a faint, sly smile and Fjord chuckles.

“Maybe wait until later down the road, at least,” Fjord says, squeezing his hand. 

“I wonder what sort of tea I could grow here,” Caduceus says pensively. He glances up at the soft lights swaying on the branches above them.

“I’d be happy to help you find out,” Fjord says. He smiles. “To plant a seed and watch it grow and flourish under your hand sounds… rewarding.”

Caduceus looks back at him, a soft, fond smile on his face.

“It is,” he says quietly. He looks back up after a few seconds, the contemplative look returning to his face. “I’ll see what I can find in town. We can plant it together, if you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much,” Fjord replies. Caduceus still hasn’t pulled his hand away and he allows himself to brush his thumb over his knuckles, pleased to see the faint smile that comes to Caduceus lips.

A soft, familiar warm breeze rustles the branches overhead and he watches Caduceus’ eyes fall shut as it ruffles his hair.

“Is that Her?” Fjord says. He’s still trying to learn to recognize signs of the Wildmother’s presence. Lately it feels like everything is a sign from Her.

Caduceus opens his eyes again and his smile widens. “All of this is Her,” he says with a gesture to the tree and surrounding garden. 

Fjord can’t help but smile at his usual cryptic response, the persistent knot of nerves in his gut winding tighter when Caduceus gives his fingers a squeeze.

“Caduceus?”

“Hm?”

“You… you’ve always talked about destiny and fate and your faith and…” he pauses, clearing his throat when Caduceus turns to give him a politely expectant look and his ears warm. “Do you think She—do you think your parents were destined to be together?”

Caduceus stares at him for a moment before furrowing his brow thoughtfully. “Well,” he begins slowly, “they love each other and are happy together so, yes, I think they were. Destiny isn’t a preset path, Fjord. Your destiny is yours because you choose it.”

Fjord frowns, feeling his head ache slightly trying to wrap his mind around the contradiction of it all.

“Why do you ask?” Caduceus continues. “I’ll admit, that’s not what I would have expected you to ask about.” He chuckles and Fjord feels the heat move from his ears to his face and down the back of his neck.

“Just… curious how far-reaching it all was,” Fjord mumbles, frowning down into his cup. He looks up, disappointed, when Caduceus’ fingers withdraw from his own, watching him take a thoughtful sip of his own tea, his eyes unfocused and fixed somewhere off behind the tree where the wall is broken away and open to the sky.

“And us?”

Caduceus blinks and gives him a curious look.

“Hm?”

“Is this fate, do you think?” Fjord continues, gesturing around vaguely at the tower and between the two of them, trying to ignore the prickling heat under his collar.

“You mean this specifically, or…” Caduceus tips his teacup as he trails off and Fjord laughs. 

“In general,” Fjord clarifies, still smiling and feeling suddenly less anxious. Caduceus always has a way about him that seems to ease the tension out of any situation.

Caduceus hums in consideration, sipping his tea before answering.

“I mean if us meeting isn’t an indication of fate I’m not sure what would be,” he says at last, shrugging a little. “I said before I was sent to you by the Wildmother and I still believe that.”

Fjord, taken aback by his bluntness, can’t help but smile.

“I’m certainly glad she sent you my way, then,” he says. Feeling bold, he reaches his hand back across the table to lay it on top of Caduceus fingers again, squeezing gently.

Caduceus looks down, the barest hint of surprise flashing across his face before it’s replaced with an almost shy smile that makes Fjord’s stomach swoop.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, glancing up at Fjord with a look of soft sincerity. “Me too.”


End file.
